The Hardest Part of this Is Leaving You
by TheOtherHalfBloodPrince
Summary: "I now truly know why I've always shielded myself from sentiment. It is not because it is a distraction; it is because I have always been afraid, afraid of what it feels like. I have to say, I don't like it. It's too hard to cope with." The moments before the fall told from Sherlock's point of view.


A cold breeze slices through the air. I've never seen the world like this. The way the golden rays of sunlight peek out from the clouds to shower the streets in a shimmering light is hauntingly beautiful.

Everything seems so small from here. The hum of traffic below me drones on, acting as background noise to my thoughts.

I should be scared; I should be terrified, but an odd, calming sensation envelops my being. Below me, the world continues to go on, as it will when I am gone, barely noticing my absence.

I guess it's a good thing I don't have too many people who care for me; it makes for less sorrow and grief. I've never quite grasped the importance of such emotions, yet I have seen them wage wars inside the hearts of others, consuming every thought until there's no room left for anything else.

I teeter on the ledge, my toes sneaking closer and closer to the edge with each second that passes. The time ticks by with an agonizing slowness, bent on using every moment as a weapon of malice against me.

I don't have much time left. I know what has to be done; I am left with no other choice but to throw myself to the cold, unforgiving ground below. I don't want to, but they have discovered my one fault: the one person in the world whom I've grown to care for, and they know exactly how to dangle it just out of my reach, leaving me powerless against their commands.

The phone call was the hardest part, even though I have thoroughly conditioned myself to block out my feelings, to lock them away in the darkness I harbor inside my body.

Who knew that something as simple as sentiment could cause one so much pain? I didn't. The wind grows stronger, sending locks of my curled hair dancing around my head.

Across the street, the taxi is stalled on the side of the road, John still holding the phone against his ear. I can see his lips moving, but the sound does not reach me. I suppose it's for the best, because I fear that if I could hear him begging me to come down would make this worse.

_Jump. Now. _

I remain fixed to my place on the stone ledge of St. Bart's Hospital, ignoring the need to complete my task. Why can't I let go? Why is it so damn hard to force all of my emotions to subside? I swore to myself that I wouldn't let sentiment get in the way -not with my work, not with my life. It's too much of a distraction, tearing me away from my mind.

_You're over thinking this. Get it over with. The passage of time will only make it worse._

Why did it have to come to this? Is it too much to ask that I can live? This wasn't supposed to be so difficult. I was supposed to jump, not fixate on my emotions and allow them to cloud my mind.

My eyes travel to John, who is still speaking. His eyes lock with mine, silently pleading me to rethink this, to come down, but I _can't. _I want to, God, I want to, but turning away now would mean the ending of John's life. I don't think I would be able to forgive myself with the knowledge that I could have prevented it. Why can't I jump?

John takes a step toward me, which brings me back to the cruel world that has become my reality. I spread my arms, much like a bird spreads its wings as it prepares for flight. Except I won't be flying; I will be falling. I wish he would turn away. I don't want him to witness this.

I lean into the wind, allowing it to wrap me into its arms. I lean into its frigid embrace as I feel myself being pulled toward the ground at an alarming rate.

I thought letting go would make me feel better, that it would take away the pain. It's almost worse now that I have secured my fate. Why is this so hard?

I watch John's face contort in horror as I plummet to the ground. In that brief moment the pure fear in his eyes becomes mine. The mere thought of the pain I will cause him weighs down heavily upon me. I now truly know why I've always shielded myself from sentiment. It is not because it is a distraction; it is because I have always been afraid, afraid of what it feels like. I have to say, I don't like it. It's too hard to cope with. I take one last fleeting look at the only person who has not just tolerated me, but actually enjoyed my company. I have expected so many things to come out of my life, but I never expected to meet someone like John Watson.

_The hardest part of this is leaving you. It will always be leaving you._

**Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this story. It is inspired by the song _Cancer _by My Chemical Romance. Please, please leave me a review with your thoughts. I love to hear from you guys. Be sure to check out my _Supernatural _fic, _Occupational Hazards._**

**Disclaimer: If I was fortunate enough to own _Sherlock_, you would not be waiting this long for season three.**


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